Folk suburb loves the old speaking in the new, and this castle wall stands hidden in the May and Elder at the end of a road of semi-detacheds. You can step out of the normal car-washing and pressure sprayers, in a Hill Of Dreams kind of way, and climb the footpath that is visible only in a slightly crushed note to the ramsons, and emerge, brushing through the bramble briar, in this hollow, where all is silent except for the start up of a lawnmower somewhere below.
I also like this graffiti, carved rather than sprayed: BUTCH 1982. Suburb folk in itself.
I also like this graffiti, carved rather than sprayed: BUTCH 1982. Suburb folk in itself.
It's wonderful to come across such surprises from the long-distant past. They can try to kill it but it's always there, haunting us in the best possible way.
ReplyDeleteI second that. And Butch has left a lasting mark on the world. I love the gnarliness of carving a name onto a surface as graffiti, rather than spraying it. (Though as an education professional I obviously don't condone either!)
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